


Gravity

by Niknakz93



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: A sprinkle of sexual tension, Angst, F/M, Fluff, Pre-Romance, Slow Burn, So fluffy it can choke, Vallena Lavellan, awkward and cute lavellan is awkward and cute, fluffy furry coats, huggles for the Dread Wolf, just do it, no longer just a one shot, of course there is angst, this is Solas after all
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-08
Updated: 2016-05-11
Packaged: 2018-06-07 01:21:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6779521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Niknakz93/pseuds/Niknakz93
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Solas runs into a nightmare preying on his deepest fears and desires in the Fade, then encounters the Inquisitor afterwards while trying to clear his head. She once more surprises him. This time, through the power of cuddles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Huggles for the Dread Wolf

**Author's Note:**

> Because we all know that beneath it all, Solas' self restraint is hanging on by a fraying thread. And he's lonely and hurting. Just some Solavellan angsty fluff with a sprinkle of implied future sexytimes and romance. All mistakes are my own (As it's 2am. *Snoozes*)

Before he met her, nightmares were predictable. There was a certain, distinctive sheen of darkness to the surrounding air, a chill that made the hairs on his arms stand up and the back of his neck prickle uncomfortably. Easy to escape before it manifested and just as simple to dispel. They rarely plagued him. Though he normally avoided them wherever possible, and usually with ease, the ones that caught him by sheer chance showed him images of his past actions. Images that would make any normal man crumple and weep. Fire, endless fire and blood. The destruction of an entire race.

But he was not a normal man. And he had never been.

This nightmare was something unpredictable, something he had never faced before; the prickle never came and the chill was nothing but a warm summer’s breeze rolling across the bright green hills he was exploring, following the steps of an elvhen child who had gone on to become a hero of legend in her surrounding area but no further. He merely wanted to discover if the tales were indeed true and this _da’len_ would one day become a memory to cherish for her people.

Solas was reminded greatly of Vallena whenever he looked at the unnamed child; they shared the same pale hair, the colour of sunlight on fresh snow. Even their eyes were similar, a warm amber shot through with gold. Such distinctive colouring. Such _unusual_ colouring. He wondered vaguely if the child’s blood ran in Vallena’s veins. It was entirely possible. Or maybe he was seeing things, patterns that were there by mere chance and he was observant enough to notice them. If the child had _Vallaslin,_ it would be a dark gold like her eyes, no doubt. Just like Vallena also.

Vallena as a child now came to mind. The thought made Solas smile faintly and yearn to traverse the Fade in search of such a memory. But as tempting as it was, he would never do it without her permission. He of all people knew how private memories could be. Vallena would not object to his request, he knew that; she was far too open and cheerful for a Dalish. So positive. If anything, she would most likely demand that she accompany him. And he would allow her to. Eagerly. Solas thought longingly of Vallena accompanying him deep into the ancient past and showing her what she could have been. What she would have been; a flower that never faded, even as time passed by. Centuries. Millenniums. She would endure, as heart-achingly beautiful as the day he first saw her.

Something rode the winds, he could feel it approaching. The air didn’t chill, so Solas merely turned to see what spirit had caught the breeze of memory and drifted like a spore. The gentle movements and rosy red and pale pink identified the spirit as one of Love.

 _I must have been projecting louder than I thought._ Somehow, it didn’t bother him. In fact, he welcomed it; maybe this spirit could shed some light on his disquiet thoughts about the frustratingly alluring and lovable Dalish woman.

“ _Ohhh,_ ” the Spirit cooed, floating over without invitation. “Ohh! How very beautiful, yet so painful.” She sighed, almost longingly at the kindling of love within him. _There,_ he thought, an edge of finality to it. _Tangible proof. You have more than mere feelings for her._ He felt faintly sick beneath the exultation.

“You should hold her hand,” Love giggled, whirling through the air like a leaf in an updraft. “Hold _her. Nooo…_ Have her hold _you_ – you desire her touch, her arms around you.” She laughed again, a bright noise in the silence. “Her arms are small and you fear that you would be much too big for her embrace, yet still you crave it.”

Maybe Love wasn’t such a good idea after all. She was excitable, playful, dancing in the air once more. Though his heart did the very same whenever he looked at Vallena and she smiled at him. She made his weary soul feel light. “I require advice.” He would have consulted Wisdom instead, but Wisdom was… no more. Love would have to do. Even if she was so odd and likely to confuse his feelings further. She was harmless.

“Love conquers all,” Love sighed wistfully. “It does not judge someone. You should kiss her, tell her every sweet nothing imaginable and watch her blush in your arms. She always blushes around you. She _loves_ blushing in your presence, because you like it.”

“And what of doomed love?”

“Doomed love is the most passionate! The most intense and _beautiful._ ” Love seemingly melted before him before solidifying back into wisps of pink smoke, this time with a vaguely humanoid form. “Doomed love can be fixed, of course it can! Your heart doesn’t need to be so weary. Dance with her, kiss her and hold her. Always hold her.”

She was going to be no help, Solas could see that now. She was much too caught up. “I do not wish to hurt either of us, Love. My path has no happy ending for both of us together. It’s… impossible.” And it _hurt_. It did. Solas hadn’t realized just how much until that moment. He _wanted_ to be with her. Be happy with her. Make _her_ happy. But she was a grain of sand in his constantly flowing hourglass, and soon, one way or another, she would be gone.

Love drifted closer and smiled beatifically. “Everyone deserves love, Dread Wolf. Even when they think otherwise. Love is _love._ It is the creator of worlds.”

“And the destroyer of them,” Solas added quietly. Before him he felt his path waver the slightest fraction. The path that ended with the Veil cast aside and the glory of his People restored. _A girl,_ he thought, aghast at his own uncertainty. _A mere shadow is swaying me. A creature that should have never been, so far removed from what she should have been. A Dalish._

There was no happiness in his future. He was destined to walk the lonely trail alone. How selfish he was to bring another onto that path, only to break her when the time came. The Great Betrayer in the flesh. The true Dread Wolf.

Solas rubbed his temple with a finger. Talking to Love had solved nothing. If anything, it had caused more unsettling thoughts and feelings. _Don’t I deserve some happiness?_ a small voice said at the back of his mind, but he chose to ignore it. Listening to those thoughts would only give him a chronic headache that wouldn’t abate even when he woke up. He felt odd. Love drifted even closer.

“Or you could just simply take her, like you so wish to. Is that not what she cries out for at times? For the Dread Wolf to take her? She wouldn’t object, you know; she would embrace you willingly. Enthusiastically. Both Solas and Fen’Harel.” Love’s voice became a purr that sharpened his attention. She darkened around the edges, a plum purple beginning to seep into her. “You do not even deny that you desire her so. If she kissed you, would that façade break at long last? Would she shatter you, Dread Wolf? You would shatter her,” Lust sneered. “You would use her, and then discard her. And you would claim that it is for the greater good. You are a monster and you know it better than any Dalish elf.”

What a blind fool he’d been, so caught up in his chaotic thoughts and emotions. He hadn’t noticed the memory for what it was – a facsimile. A fake, used by the Lust demon to draw him into its lair. Rage erupted out of him as he struck out at the demon, causing the sweet dream to revert into what it truly was; a nightmare. The green hills splintered and crumbled away like sand and he left, a blaze of simmering rage and shame in his wake.

 

Solas woke up. For a moment he merely lay there, staring up into the deep darkness. The candles had burned low and long, deep orange tongues of light flickered softly across the stone walls.

And then he snapped.

The bound sketchbook next to his head was thrown with such force against the opposite wall that it tore, scattering the pages everywhere. Solas groaned into his palm as he sat up and swung himself out of bed, perching on the edge it. All around him, the papers fell like fluttering rain before lying still and silent. It felt _good,_ unleashing some of the rage, the intense frustration. Vallena made him act irrationally, foolishly at times, and she didn’t even know it. His obsession with her had allowed a demon to take advantage of his weakness for a moment.

He sat there staring at the floor for a long time after that, trying to clear his mind. To gain back the control he had momentarily lapsed in. It should not have happened, and it would not happen again. There was no place in his mission for love, no matter how he wished otherwise. Vallena was a distraction that he needed to forget before he lost control and lost his mind also.

Vallena. She stared up at him from one of the scattered pages by his foot, smile as intoxicating as the real thing. Solas cursed his own artistic skill as he snatched it up, then the rest; Vallena in profile; Vallena sat astride her hart; Vallena sharing a small and secret smile with him after he presented her with a drawing of her beloved staff, _Ka’laina_.  And many more. Instead of hiding them straight away as he had done before, he set them gently down atop his bed and got up to clear his mess away.

His room was a place of negative energy now. Sleep would not come easily while his mind was heavy. Resigning himself to napping upright in his chair in the rotunda, he gathered up a few items and stepped from his room.

 

 

The rotunda was not empty. Solas felt her before he saw her, but only moments before; he stopped dead, truly taken aback at the Inquisitor staring up at the frescoes illuminated by candlelight. “Inquisitor?”

Vallena jumped with a loud gasp that echoed. She stumbled in her effort to turn and face him, those damned eyes wide and positively glowing. “Oh! I am so sorry if I’ve interrupted you. I couldn’t sleep and I found myself coming… here.” She smiled wistfully up at his artwork.

“Why couldn’t you sleep?” Solas set down his few items upon the desk and met her eyes, though it wasn’t easy after everything. He had faced much worse, and yet this was one of the things that had vexed him most? It was maddening. _She_ was maddening.

Vallena smiled. It was a sad smile that didn’t suit her. “I don’t sleep so well here in Skyhold. With the stone walls and closed doors, it feels too much like a prison for one so familiar with the trees. But I will adapt. Anyway, why are you awake?” Her smile turned teasing. “Bored of the Fade, _falon_?”

It was understandable, of course it was; she was used to the wide open spaces, not this. He wondered why he hadn’t thought about it before. It seemed so very obvious now. “I had a nightmare, _da’len_.”

She stilled, a gentle frown sullying her face. “I wouldn’t have thought that you… got them? Would you like to talk about it? If it brought you out of the Fade, it must have been serious.”

So very perceptive and clever. He was… proud of her. Solas smiled and replied swiftly with “I appreciate your concern, but it is not necessary. Everyone has nightmares, whether they traverse the Fade or not. Even the happiest child in the world would have nightmares about losing that happiness.”

And then she surprised him yet again; Vallena smiled and crossed the distance between them, waiting for no permission before she twined her small arms around him in what was unmistakably a hug. He froze on the spot, unsure how to react. She never failed to catch him by surprise. Maybe that was why he was falling for her, and falling hard.

“Vallena, _da’len,_ what are you doing?”

“What does it look like?” she said into his chest, voice somewhat muffled. Her hair smelled like fresh herbs, crisp and delicious. “I’m hugging you, silly. Even you must know what a hug is.”

“But why are you hugging me, Vallena?” He still made no move to return the gesture, no matter how much he desired to. And he desired it greatly.

Vallena turned her gaze upwards, the beam still wide upon her face. “Hugs beat nightmares. Everyone knows that. I’m helping you to fight off those that come to pester you.”

“Is this a Dalish thing?”

“No, it’s a _people thing,_ Pride. Hug me back so I don’t feel like some fool standing here and randomly hugging you. You’re so stiff. Like a plank of wood.”

There – the excuse to hug her back he had been hoping for. Carefully, cautiously, Solas wrapped his arms around her petite form. Vallena almost purred with happiness; he could feel her chest vibrating against his own. “See?” she said after a moment, pressing her cheek against his neck, one of the highest places she could reach. “Isn’t this comforting? Hugs are more powerful than magic.”

Of course that wasn’t true, but he did feel somewhat calmer with her arms laced around him protectively, her heartbeat falling into synchronization with his own. He felt the stress positively melt away at her touch.

They stood like that for so long they lost track of time, just holding each other. Two lonely souls caught in a situation that called for their entire being; he with rectifying his mistake and she healing the sky. Another one of his mistakes. This pain she was enduring, it was his fault.

Solas stepped away first. Had to. If not, he would have simply reached down and drawn those tempting lips to his own. And she would have responded, he knew it in her disappointed expression when he met her eyes once there was a small but safe distance between them. “Maybe hugs do carry some sort of magic,” he said, hoping to lessen the disappointment she felt. It was kinder this way, he tried to convince himself. Mercy from the Dread Wolf.

“Not _maybe,_ ” she told him firmly, “they _do._ ” Vallena looked suddenly thoughtful. “Maybe that’s what Fen’Harel needs.”

“Why would the Dread Wolf need hugs?” He needed hugs. Her hugs, specifically.

“Because everyone hates him,” she said softly, casting her gaze to one of the frescoes; there was a wolf hidden within one of them. He wasn’t at all surprised that she had noticed. “Imagine that? A life filled with hate and no love. His people curse in his name and fear him. What a lonely life he must lead. Every wolf needs a pack or it is simply… lost.”

“You would be willing to hug Fen’Harel? Wouldn’t he steal you away, _da’len_?” he added, an undercurrent of bitterness. If she kept talking so passionately, so exquisitely, maybe he _would_ consider taking her. In every sense of the word.

A crimson blush spread across her cheeks at his words. “I hugged you, didn’t I? That is just as frightening as hugging the Dread Wolf.”

Solas frowned, taken aback. “I frighten you?”

The red in her cheeks deepened. “You are… intense. Intimidating, to tell the truth. I could never even hope to be your equal in any way.”

She was… afraid of him. More afraid of _him_ than the Dread Wolf, the monster from her nightmares. Something was very wrong with that. “I… do not quite know what to say, Vallena. This news troubles me deeply. It is no wish of mine that you be afraid of me. I am your friend, your ally.”

Vallena almost giggled. “I am not afraid in that sense. I trust you, I truly do. You are just so… different from any man I have ever met, one of the People or not. And that frightens me more than anything – you are the unknown. And I really don’t like the unknown. But with you, it’s so different. Exciting. You excite me.”

She didn’t mean it like that, he knew, but it was worth staying silent just to watch her eyes widen once more, to witness her slapping a hand to her mouth in horror. “Not like that! You don’t always excite me like that. I mean… not like that… oh, Dread Wolf _take me._ I am such an embarrassment. I’ll leave you now before I say something else ridiculous. Goodnight, Solas.”

It was the ‘don’t always’ that made him catch her hand, effectively preventing her escape. Vallena paused, but her face was still resolutely turned away from his piercing  gaze. “Don’t go,” Solas said, more softly than he meant to. “I wish to know how I can frighten you less.” The warning bells inside of his head were silenced as he shoved them away. _Not now. I don’t care. Just give me this moment of happiness, a brief memory to cherish through the dark years ahead._ He’d need those memories on the bad days. And there would be bad days. Many, many of them.

Vallena met his gaze at last, though her expression was shy. Reluctant. “It is through no fault of your own,” she told him soothingly, raising a hand and setting it gingerly against his cheek. It was so soft, gentle and hopeful. So pure. And then she reached up on her tiptoes and pressed her lips to his cheek, lingering there for a long moment. She might as well have kissed his lips with the effect she had on his heart; it leaped joyfully within his chest, twirling with uncontained joy. Vallena pulled away, the barest hint of a smile upon her lips. “Goodnight for real now. You won’t suffer anymore nightmares this evening, you have my word. I’ll see you in the morn.”

He could barely get the words out. “Goodnight, Vallena.” _Vhenan._ There was no denying it now. Denying it was an outright lie.

“Oh,” she called as an afterthought when she reached the door leading out of the rotunda, still not looking around. “And you _do_ excite me in that way. Just thought you should know.”

Solas knew the beginning of a tragedy when he saw one. This lost Dalish beauty was going to be the death of him.


	2. The Fluffiest Coat in all of Skyhold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After their last encounter, Vallena has decided to pursue Solas using her clan's customs. It goes as well as you're expecting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep, there is more! I simply had to write more after how much I enjoyed doing chapter one. Writing an awkward Lavellan and flustered Solas? I would not trade it for anything. Too much fun! Thank you for the kudos and love on the last chapter! *Blows kisses* enjoy more of these two snugglemuffins. As for the chapter title... I... have no regrets.

It all changed after that night in the rotunda. Vallena summoned what courage she could find the week after for… something crazy. Crazy even for her, the Inquisitor.

“So,” Dorian shivered, retreating deeper into his thick fur coat. Oh how he detested snow and ice. “Are you going to tell me just why we are out at the crack of dawn in the Frostbacks and hunting for… bloody big wolves? I should also add that it is cold enough to freeze blood right now. So my death will be on your conscience. ”

It wasn’t quite _that_ cold, but the chill did bite at Vallena’s bare face something terrible. “Go back,” she said patiently, leaning heavily on her staff as she meandered forward through the ankle-deep snowdrift. “This is something that I must do alone.”

“Hunt dirty great fur balls? Not likely. Not likely at all.”

Vallena sighed in frustration, plunging the staff down once more for better grip. She already felt foolish. “Please – this is important to me. It’s a Dalish tradition.”

He barked out a laugh that echoed through the mountain pass. “I’m still not leaving you to scour the mountain alone for a… what was it again? Some hideous monster intent on ripping out your intestines and decorating the mountainside with them?”

“A white wolf native to this part of the Frostbacks,” Vallena explained, refusing to slow down so they could walk side-by-side. She wouldn’t have put it past Dorian to knock her out and drag her back to Skyhold without her prize. “Its coat is completely impervious to the cold and ice spells. It’s very special.” And very big.

“Exactly why you shouldn’t be hunting it _alone,_ Miss Stubborn Elf _._ Come back with me right now and I’ll _buy_ you one of these things. One that’s already dead and unable to rip that pretty little throat out.”

Vallena glanced back and smiled wryly. “I can’t.” And then she pressed on once more, trying not to laugh at Dorian’s groans of utter despair. Though she did feel guilty when he skidded a little on the snow and ice, swearing so violently it echoed at least five times.

Of course he found it ridiculous. Vallena thought it more than a little bit ridiculous herself, but it was traditional. It was how things were when you wanted to court a man in her clan, to show your affection. One of a few ways, but this one was the most practical; Vallena had noticed how tatty Solas’ coat was becoming, how it would always let the chill in as well as the heat. She had seen him shiver imperceptivity countless times, but he remained silent. Of course he did. With a trip to the Emprise coming up within the month, Vallena refused to see him suffer for the duration. The gift was symbolic; it represented something he desperately needed, and she had made for him. If he accepted it…

Vallena tried to ignore the pounding of her heart at the mere thought, but failed spectacularly. She _knew_ that she wasn’t reading too into it. Not after that night, the way he’d looked at her then and the next morning. It had almost set her soul alight.

Dorian started up again, voice gruff; there were ice crystals in his moustache and _they were fucking cold._ “Just tell me _why_ you are doing this? Please, Vallena – what could this possibly achieve other than a stupid death?”

“I am proving myself.”

“Proving yourself? To whom and for – wait a moment. Is this some backwards courtship thing?”

“No!” Vallena all but yelled. _Yes,_ she thought sarcastically, _that will really convince him._

“Oh-ho!” Dorian barked out in triumph, huffing as he dashed forward to fall alongside her. “So I’m right! The plot thickens; the Inquisitor is trying to prove herself, but to whom? Hmm?” The smirk just grew and Vallena growled quietly to herself, ears glowing red from embarrassment. She should have just run, she figured. Dashed out the moment Dorian stepped from behind that tree just outside of Skyhold to ask where she was going.

Vallena waved her staff before Dorian’s face threateningly. “I am going to shove this somewhere where the sun doesn’t shine in a moment. And you really won’t like it.”

If was as if the threat went in one ear and straight out of the other. Dorian’s eyes gleamed as he flicked the ice crystals away from under his nose for the umpteenth time. “Could it be-?” he said wonderingly. “No. Oh, it _is!_ You sneaky little thing, Vallena! You’ve been hiding some juicy news from me. Rude!”

Vallena didn’t answer, but not because she didn’t have an answer; paw prints larger than her entire hand wound through the snow before her. They were close.

Dorian sighed in exasperation. “Just tell me one thing – is killing this thing truly so important to you?”

A pause. “Yes.”

“Oh for goodness sake,” Dorian replied wearily, staring down at the… bloody big paw prints. “I’m still coming with you, _but!_ I swear not to interfere unless I must; you _are_ the Inquisitor. Your life is important, even if you’ve temporarily forgotten that due to being blinded by our illustrious Fade expert.”

“I’m not blinded,” Vallena mumbled, the red creeping into her cheeks now. “But this is still my life and my traditions. I refuse to forget my home, my way of life just because I am the Inquisitor.” There wasn’t even any guarantee that he’d accept her offering. In fact, she was starting to wonder if beating ten High Dragons alone was an easier feat.

“I still think this is a pretty poor life decision.”

Vallena laughed, the smoke curling from her mouth in dancing spirals. “Honestly? Same.”

They trekked deeper into the mountains all through the morning, following the footsteps that grew more and more distinct. When they rounded a corner with a sharp slice of rock jutting out, Vallena threw up her arm to bring Dorian beside her to a halt.

Ahead of them was the wolf. Vallena’s heart almost gave out at the sheer size of the beast; it was more bear than wolf, its tail alone as long as her entire body. Its hulking form was covered in a shaggy fur the colour of freshly fallen snow. Ivory claws, almost like that of an overgrown cat, peeked out from each of its enormous paws.

  _Andruil bless me,_ Vallena thought as she stepped from behind the rock and raised her staff, calling up a long line of fire that she threw at the wolf; it caught its side, causing the beast to howl like a burning wraith. Vallena shuddered and almost slipped on the treacherous ground at the terrible sound. It made her want to tear out her ears.

With a cry, she drew the bow from her back and nocked one of the black-tipped arrows she had on her person. Vallena was not proficient enough with a bow to use it in everyday combat, but for this… it was enough. It was what the tradition called for; she let loose the arrow and it flew fast and true, but not true enough as it embedded itself into the beast’s neck and not its head like she had been aiming for.

With a howl of rage, the wolf barrelled towards her through the snow. Vallena tossed the bow aside, cursing her trembling fingers for missing. She called upon fire once more, but let the spell fizzle out with a snarl of her own; fire would only damage the fur. And ice was useless against it.

 _Stun it. Dispatch it with a knife._ Vallena instead began conjuring up a wicked jolt of electricity, blasting it at the wolf.

It dodged the attack with ease, much too graceful for a monster that size. Vallena felt her blood run cold as the wolf came even closer, throwing herself out of its way as a claw came down near her face; she cried out, hitting its side with the butt of her staff. She might have just yelled at it for all the good it did.

The other paw came down and caught her right arm; Vallena screamed as it tore through much of the skin and muscle. Everything went white with pain and she crashed to the ground. She flinched away from the intense snarling, ready for those colossal jaws to fasten around her neck. But it never came; electricity instead filled the air and the ground beside her trembled as something heavy smashed into it.

“You foolish girl! Stay still – don’t _move!_ ” There was a lot of swearing in a language she didn’t know after that. Vallena shoved Dorian aside and pulled herself to her knees; the wolf was paralyzed, lying on its side. It wouldn’t be a kill she could claim alone, but she would take its life.

Ignoring Dorian’s protests and firm hands, Vallena unsheathed her dagger with her left hand and brought it down hard, driving it into the animal’s skull. She didn’t pause to watch it die, allowing Dorian to wrench her down and bind her arm with a length of fabric – she wasn’t sure what he’d used. Vallena felt a heat flash through her arm as his hand passed over it, but knew that it wasn’t fully healed. For one thing, it still hurt terribly.

“Herald!” a voice called from behind them. Crunching footsteps in the snow and Vallena watched as a contingent of guards appeared, running towards them. _Of course,_ she thought bitterly, pulling herself to her feet with a pained moan. _Of course I wouldn’t be allowed to just… go gallivanting off to slay a monster wolf alone._

She’d killed her wolf, but Vallena still felt like she’d failed miserably.

 

 

Once the mage healer had worked her magic and Vallena’s arm was wrapped up and more than a little sore, the yelling began.

_“Completely irresponsible! If our soldiers had not been following you and Dorian, you would most likely be dead right now! And then who would close the Rifts? Your stupidity could have brought upon us the end of the world!”_

Cassandra never did things by half. By the time she was gone, Vallena felt like a downright fool; the Seeker was right, of course. She _had_ been stupid, and dangerously proud. Too proud to ask for someone to watch her, just in case. At least Dorian was no fool and had secretly called for the guards to follow them at a distance.

“Please don’t tell them why we were out there,” Vallena next to pleaded the moment Dorian walked into her quarters and closed the door behind him. “I feel like an idiot.”

Dorian chuckled. “And so you should! You _are_ an idiot! And I believe you owe me a ‘thank-you Dorian’ for having the poor soldiers heave your prize back to Skyhold. Some of the men may have fainted a little at the size of the beast. You could make enough coats to clothe an army with that thing.”

Vallena bowed her head. “ _Ma serannas,_ Dorian. Truly.”

“Is he really worth almost losing your other arm for?” Dorian sighed wearily, sitting down upon the edge of the bed. “No offense, but he really doesn’t seem like your type of man. In all these months, I’ve yet to see him crack a smile once. He’s so serious. Like a Chantry mother with a chastity belt that’s much too tight.”

“Solas is not a Chantry mother.”

“I won’t ask about the chastity belt, then.” _Elves!_ Dorian thought, exasperated once more. _So willing to get themselves mauled in the name of love._ “Truly hoping that this wasn’t for nothing. If he refuses whatever you have planned, I may hit him myself.”

“It’s his choice,” Vallena replied stonily. “I’ve heard of women killing dragons and being refused.”

Dorian simply stared before spluttering out “Madness. Just… madness!”

 

 

During every free moment she got after that, Vallena worked on creating the coat. It took her longer than she thought to just skin the creature and dry out the hide and cure it. Twice she had to refuse Vivienne’s offer of making the coat more Orlesian in style, and every day she had to endure Dorian’s smirks about how she should dye the coat hot pink to match Solas’ flowery, bubbling personality.

“Or maybe-!”

“No, Dorian.”

Word got out about the Inquisitor’s project, and before long, faces she both knew and didn’t dropped by to either have a look or offer advice. Some words Vallena did take on, but most she didn’t. Especially with everyone under the impression that the coat was for herself and not intended as a gift.

“Just saying, a little cleavage wouldn’t hurt.”

“Darling, that is entirely too long! It would cover up your best asset. _Flaunt it._ ”

“That colour will stain. Maybe dye it something else? Yellow is very fashionable this year I hear.”

“I adore your tent, Inquisitor!”

It annoyed Vallena at how many truly thought her coat was a tent. Did they not know what sleeves were? Buttons and straps? She almost ground her teeth into dust during those comments. Thankfully, as the coat was nearing completion, people seemed to understand that it wasn’t a tent. Thankfully for them, that was.

“You know – if he refuses, I will happily accept instead.” Dorian held the coat away from him at arm’s length, almost sighing with longing. “Your design puts all Orlesian fashion to shame. Is that Vivienne I can hear moaning with desire?”

“Dorian, give me the coat. Then step away from it. Slowly.”

He did, though very reluctantly.

Vallena stroked a hand across the fur, marvelling in how soft it was. After hunting wolves before, she hadn’t thought that their fur could _get_ that soft. But here she was, proven wrong.

The coat was fairly simple, really; it was long, but not so long that it would be impractical during a fight, falling to just about the knees. The creamy fur covered roughly three-quarters of the coat, leaving only a sort of golden-brown panel of leather down the front that came to the knees. The front was held together with a series of intricate looking, yet simple to use leather straps. There was no defined collar, just warm and deep fur. It was nothing fancy, but Vallena knew from making Dorian try it on that it would make Solas look like he’d just stepped out of Arlathan. The golden stitching at the hem of the leather arms was all done by hand, and she was exceptionally proud of it.

It was much too big to place into a box, so Vallena merely carried it to the rotunda in her arms, a single flower sat atop it. She wasn’t quite sure what the flower was, but it was apparently harmless according to the scouts that had brought it to her from the Frostbacks during a patrol at her request. The flower was as small as her thumbnail, a blinding white with a stunning deep golden centre. It reminded Vallena of herself and hoped that he’d see it as a tiny, but extra gift.

“Solas!” Vallena beamed the second she stepped into the room, positively glowing with pride. “I have something for you.”

For him? He straightened up within his chair, watching the woman step over and carefully place the bundle of what seemed like fur down before him. Atop it was a flower. Well, a weed. “Is this what you have been working on so diligently?” he asked with a faint smile, brushing the flower gently aside. “Word gets around.”

Vallena nodded, trying to force back the wide smile and failing miserably. “Yes. I… made it for you.”

Solas’ fingers hovered above the thick fur, truly taken aback. “For me? What have I done to deserve such a priceless gift?”

Her smile still didn’t fade the slightest. “It’s completely immune to the cold, and ice attacks. You could face a blizzard in this and not feel its chill. I tracked down the wolf myself and killed it.” With… a little assistance.

Solas turned his gaze to her now, eyes sharp. “Is this what mauled you, _da’len?_ ”

“I… yes. It was.”

 _Fool,_ he mouthed, climbing to his feet and letting the coat unfurl in his hands. It was a beauty, he had to admit. Who would have thought the Inquisitor harbouring such a talent? At her eager request, Solas slipped the coat on over his outfit and drew it around him. Almost immediately the memories of Arlathan assaulted him; the offerings of furs and leathers he would receive as Fen’Harel especially. Furs had been his skin, his warmth. The ones in the ancient past had been much more flashy, more expensive than this thoughtful creation. But he loved Vallena’s infinitely more.

“It is glorious,” he admitted, burying his fingers deeper into the white fur, his heart aching painfully. “Truly. But I cannot accept this.” Solas slipped off the coat and lay it across his arms for her to take.

Vallena visibly deflated before him, the smile fading away from her face. “But why not?” she whispered, feeling her heart shatter into a million pieces.

“You have poured your heart and soul into this piece. No one deserves it but you, _da’len._ I am not worthy of it.”

Vallena opened her mouth to protest, to insist that he keep it, but said nothing in the end. Feeling numb, Vallena took the coat and clutched it to her chest. Her heart hurt, ached like it had been stomped on by a herd of druffalo. “As you wish,” she whispered, but it came out more like a hoarse croak. Vallena left before he could say another word.

 

 

That night when Solas returned to the rotunda, he found a letter folded up upon his desk. It was very angry and short.

_She offered you her heart and you turned her down! You-_

A great deal of masterfully crafted insults followed those words. They confused Solas; she had offered him a gift, nothing more. A gift that no one but she deserved to own. How could he accept something such as that? It wasn’t like she was implying more and-

It hit him. With all his wisdom, Solas suddenly felt like a child again. A stupid, ignorant child. She _had_ been offering him her heart. The gift had been made for him. Specifically _for him._ Clearly it was intended as something more than a mere gift; a Dalish tradition, maybe? An offering of something symbolic?

Or her clan’s version of courtship.

Now he truly did feel like a fool. They had been dancing around each other for months, and Vallena had been brave enough to make the first move and… he had turned her down without a second’s thought. Heartlessly. Solas didn’t want to know how much pain she was most likely in due to his blindness.

 _What will I say when I confront her about my mistake?_ Solas groaned, rubbing the back of his hand across his forehead. More problems. More… flitting around the truth. _I should say nothing,_ a distant voice told him. _Say nothing at all so that she will simply get over this infatuation she has. It would make everything much simpler._

But no less painful for either of them.

 

 

Vallena knew she was in the Fade the moment she opened her eyes to discover that she was in a thick, lush green forest. A forest that she recognized. Home.

Gods, she missed it at times.

“Vallena?”

She didn’t jump this time, much too used to Solas pulling her into the Fade during the night. Just to chat or for him to show her something he had happened across, she loved it either way. “Yes?”

Vallena couldn’t remember a time she had seen him look nervous in the Fade, the usual composure all but gone. He held out his hand for her to take and after a moment of hesitation, Vallena took it and allowed him to draw her closer.

“Forgive me,” he said quietly, eyes dropping to their joined hands. “I did not know your customs. I acted very poorly, refusing your gift.”

Vallena smiled slightly. “The fault is mine too – I should have realized that you would have no idea of my intentions. You abhor the Dalish, after all; why would you waste time learning their ways? Especially this one.”

“It does not excuse how I acted. I… still should have accepted your marvellous gift. You must think me ignorant.”

Her hand trembled a little within his own. Touching him – touching any man – always had an effect on her. Vallena may have been brave enough to rush a monstrous wolf, but love… it staggered her. It shot her confidence to pieces. And Solas terrified her in a very good way. It was all so _new_.

“I don’t think you ignorant at all. If you won’t accept the coat as… a courtship gift, please take it as a symbol of our friendship. And proof that the Dalish are not as backward as you believe.” She felt more than a little bit faint by her own boldness. Surely he would have something to say about all that.

Solas’ thumb grazed the back of her hand, eyes still fixed upon them. He looked like a man at war with himself, Vallena decided. Loving the Inquisitor was an enormous decision, she respected that. Vallena just hoped that he was bold enough to take that risk.

He finally met her eyes, and she noted immediately how sad, how forlorn his gaze was; Vallena steeled herself for yet another outright refusal, another punch in the gut.

“I don’t know what to accept this gift as,” Solas replied softly. “May I… have some time to think about it?”

 _It wasn’t an outright refusal._ Vallena smiled, squeezing his hand gently. “Of course. Take all the time you need. Though… maybe not forever? We are in the middle of a war.” She giggled, unable to stop herself. Solas wanted to kiss the smile from her face, taste that laugh upon his own lips.

But he didn’t.

“I promise not to take forever, _da’len._ ” He let her hand go. Curiosity suddenly got the better of him. “Why a wolf? It could have killed you.” Solas had an inkling. Just a small one.

Vallena smiled in embarrassment, clasping her hands before her loosely. “You’ll only laugh…”

“Indulge me, _da’len._ ”

“The idea came to me after we talked about the Dread Wolf that night in the rotunda, when you had that nightmare. I do not fear him, so why should I fear you? Forgive me, this was stupid.”

“So you thought that a wolf would suffice based on our words?”

“It’s silly, I know.” Vallena grimaced. “My clan would be so furious if they knew of this.”

“That you created a coat based on how you feel about the Dread Wolf?” Solas hoped his tone was light, conversational. This was personal to her. She was no blind Dalish, but something more. Something beautiful. In the time of Arlathan, he would have had temples erected in her honour. Temples of pure, seamless crystal and filled with fresh golden flowers throughout the day. Vallena would have been a goddess in her own right. And at his side through the centuries and millenniums.

Vallena nodded, dropping her eyes to the floor. Almost like in submission. “They would say that it was an offering to him, an invitation for Fen’Harel to come to my bed during the night, tempting him. That I was calling him down upon our clan as a curse. My clan really hate him. More than any normal Dalish clan.”

 _Ridiculous Dalish._ He was once more angered at their ignorance, their blind stupidity. Though they were right about one thing:  she truly was tempting him in ways he never thought imaginable.

 “Don’t say it,” Vallena whispered, correctly interpreting his forced blank expression. “I know what fools they can be.”

“You don’t say.”

Vallena glanced up at the emerald canopy, a sad smile upon her lips. “Just promise me that you will use that coat? I hate seeing you cold. It makes me worry for your health.”

“ _Ma serannas._ You are too kind, Vallena.” Solas acted without conscious thought, leaning down and brushing his lips against her creamy cheek; at his touch, it flushed a deep and stunning red.

The blush deepened as he pulled away. “You are most welcome,” Vallena whispered.  

Maybe there was hope for them yet.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to come and prompt me at my Twitter, @thewickedpowers! Or just to say Hello!

**Author's Note:**

> I am actually very tempted to write more of these two... would anyone be interested in more? If so, any prompts or scenes that you'd like to see? This piece doesn't strictly follow the canon, but hey - I could try something for the hell of it. These two are just too stinkin' cute and I adore Vallena.
> 
> *UPDATE* Yay! I will be continuing this! Not sure how many more chapters are coming, but at least two more? Three, maybe? Thanks for the enthusiasm!


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